


Locked and loaded

by BloodthirstyMerc



Series: Commish cache [20]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Breeding, Breeding Slave, Chloroform, Cock Cages, Come Milking, Drug-Induced Sex, Drugged Sex, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gags, M/M, Milking, Muzzles, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Prostate Milking, Restraints, Sex Slave, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Slave Shiro (Voltron), Vibrators, come collecting, come donor, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 11:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20527499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodthirstyMerc/pseuds/BloodthirstyMerc
Summary: “You get worked up so easily baby, and you just keep asking for more, and in return, you give me so much.” Keith hums as his hand comes to rest on Shiro’s ass. Shiro rocks back into the touch instantly. Keith’s thumb rubs against the muscle of his ass as his middle finger dips between his cheeks. He rubs Shiro’s rim, slow but firm, working the muscle even though he’s loose already, teasing him more.{{Another Tumblr commish}}





	Locked and loaded

The haze that Shiro wakes to almost makes it feel like he’s barely waking at all. But his dreams are silent, they’re calm, and his limbs don’t ache in them. The pain in his body is the real give away that he’s awake. But the noise around him drags him further out of his sleep. His eyes blink open slowly, and his focus is never perfect, outlines are always blurred and today is no different.

He’s cautious when he pushes himself up so he’s sitting up on the mattress he’s been provided. More than some others are given, and he knows that. But with how ‘important’ he’s been told he is; he’s not surprised he has one. He sways a little before he’s able to ground himself. He sits on his knees, hands balled into fists and pressed into the tops of his thighs. He stares at the door to his room, ignoring the padded walls, something that reminds him of an asylum. He swallows around the bite bar between his teeth. Keith will already know that he’s awake.

It doesn’t take long before he hears the lock on his door click and he instinctively straightens up his shoulders even more. It’s never Keith to be the one to come to him when he wakes. Another slave, one he might have known the name to once, but he has no memory of it now. He’s small, too thin and lanky, but Keith keeps him around anyway. His skin is tan and Shiro’s never seen him used like so many of the others, like himself.

Shiro doesn’t move, and nothing is said between the two of them as the other slave unclasps his gag and rests his morning meal in his lap. Shiro eats the food at a quick pace, not too fast to make himself sick, but he knows not to keep Keith waiting. The moment he’s finished, his gag is back between his teeth and he stands to follow the younger slave from the room. His routine was ingrained into his brain, there was no way he could ever forget it even if he tried.

They head to the bathroom, the room kept so clean that the smell of the disinfectant burns Shiro’s nose. Shiro’s not wearing anything besides a cock cage, like usual so he steps into the already prepared bath. His foggy mind doesn’t even try to comprehend who might have run it for him while he ate. The younger slave washes him, scrubbing his skin until it’s too sensitive and rubbed raw. But it doesn’t hurt, Shiro barely feels anything besides the warmth of the other slave’s touch, drinking it in.

Once he’s cleaned all over, cleaned inside out and the water has started to go cold, he’s pulled from the bath. The drugs in his system don’t feel as heavy after a bath. The steam more than likely clears his head some, but the false feeling of control doesn’t get to him. He knows that he’ll be back to his placid state soon enough. He’s dried off and the motions feel like his body moves on autopilot. He follows the other slave out into the room he’ll spend most of the day in, as he did most days. The production room. Or something like that.

Keith’s standing by his bench, ankles crossed as he looks over some papers. Shiro stops a stride away from him and without needing to be dismissed, the other slave turns back and leaves the room. The door clicks shut and there’s no need for a lock, but the weight of feeling trapped always sets in before he’s even restrained. Keith keeps him waiting, he always does, making it seem like he has no idea that Shiro is there as he reads over his own notes that he probably has memorised by now anyway.

With the sound of the stack of papers slapping against the desk, Shiro’s mind clicks into gear. He straightens up again and his hands move to his back on instinct, prosthetic fingers locking around the flesh of his other wrist as he lifts his gaze and meets the deep violet of Keith’s eyes. Keith steps into his space and with their height difference, if Shiro ever was able to, he feels like he should be able to fight off Keith in an attempt at escape. He knows better though.

“Did you sleep well?” Keith asks as he unclasps Shiro’s gag again. He doesn’t know if Keith asks because he actually cares, or if the silence always leaves him on edge, or maybe he thinks idle conversation helps keep Shiro relaxed. Either way, Shiro takes a second to stretch his jaw again before he answers.

“Yes, sir.” His tongue is heavy, his words are slurred like he’s drunk. He knows that he’s fed drugs every night in his meals to keep him docile like this in the mornings, to make sure that he’s not going to fully wake from the stunned, hazy state his mind is always in. It has to be bad for him, but who’s he going to state that concern to?

“Good, we have a lot of work today.” And Keith’s lip twitches at the threat of a smug smirk, but he manages to keep it at bay. They always have a lot of work.

Two days of constant ‘work’, a day of recovery, another two days, then a weekend where he’s used for _other_ things, when he’s allowed to work on his body, keep himself in shape and healthy, and repeat. It’s been this way for… Shiro doesn’t know how long. It’s all such a blur. The drugs never fully leave his system, even on his ‘days off’.

Shiro doesn’t say anything as Keith releases the cage around his cock. His fingers run down the length, and like always, his flaccid member gives a weak twitch at the attention. Keith hums like he’s mentally taking notes about it before he pulls his hand away from Shiro’s body.

“You know the drill,” Keith says, gesturing to the bench in the centre of the room. Shiro moves instantly, knowing there’s no ‘getting this over and done with as fast as possible’ option and also that Keith hates having to wait for him. It’s just his ‘job’, this is what he has to do. Failure to listen will result in punishment.

He pulls himself onto the bench, kneeling on the padded surface. He spreads his knees, pressing them to the edges of the bench as he drops his hands to his sides. Keith restraints his arms to the bench where they are. The cuffs aren’t tight enough to bruise unless Shiro tugs on them enough, but they’ll keep him in place and unable to move his arms in the slightest.

Without needing to be prompted to do so, Shiro leans down for a moment so that Keith can work a leather mask over his face. It’s shaped like a muzzle and always makes Shiro think of a dog. The weak smell of chloroform instantly hits him, and his eyes roll closed for a second as he gets used to it. There’s not enough for him to fall unconscious. It’s just enough to keep him calm and docile. But it always takes a moment for his body to get used to the smell.

He sits up straight again and twists his wrists minutely, testing the restraints. It’s not like he has a chance to escape, but he always does it. His arms can barely move an inch. He manages to blink the dizziness from his head and focuses his eyes on Keith. He’s looking over his clipboard again. Shiro doesn’t make an attempt to read it. It’ll be orders, the names of the buyers, numbers of how much of Shiro’s ‘seed’ they want and how much Keith’s going to make off him just for today alone.

Shiro hears the faint click of the cap on the lube opening and again, his cock gives a little interested twitch at the promise of friction. No matter how regular this is, no matter how much he doesn’t really want to be here, doesn’t want this for himself, his body will always react the same way. Shiro watches Keith warm the lube in his hand as he flips over the page on his clipboard before he turns his attention away from it completely and looks up to Shiro.

And Shiro knows that Keith doesn’t milk all of the slaves by hand, there’s no need to. It’s weirdly like milking _cows_, he has machines for it, machines that store it until he’s ready to distribute it. But he also knows that there’s something about him that makes Keith want to have his hands on him. Maybe it’s attraction, maybe it’s just because Shiro’s the best breeder he has, Shiro doesn’t know. But Keith’s hand always feels better than the machines anyway.

“You’re off in your own world, what are you thinking about?” Keith asks and again, Shiro has no idea why he feels the need to talk to him. His hand closes over Shiro’s cock before he can answer. His eyes roll closed for a moment, breath coming out in a small sigh as Keith slowly starts stroking him. He meets Keith’s gaze again.

“You, sir.” His voice is even more sluggish and muffled by the mask over his mouth. But Keith hears him fine, if the smirk that tugs at his lips is any indication.

“Really now?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about me?” Keith presses. Shiro hesitates for a second. He’s not really sure what’s stepping too far. He’s been here for too long to not know, but some days, Keith would snap at him for even attempting to speak up or for not being as present as his drug-induced mind can be.

His hesitation has Keith squeezing the base of his cock. Shiro lets out a weak whimper, hips shaking from the stimulation. He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Keith’s hand over his cock. A constant, slow slide, up to the head, thumb brushing the tip before he pulls back down, slick sounds filling the absence of conversation. Shiro swallows and tries to keep his thoughts straight so that he can properly say what he needs to.

“Why do you… like doing this by hand with me?” It takes a moment to get it out, his brain is filled only with the thoughts of pleasure and how hard it is to concentrate on anything. Keith snorts, and it’s a sound that’s not familiar and lingers in Shiro’s mind.

“Because you get off better from it,” Keith says it so factually, like he couldn’t be incorrect at all. Shiro tries to consider it, and it makes sense, he has been milked without Keith before and will be many more times, but he’s never thought about how much better it is with Keith there. But he can’t think about it for too long because Keith’s fist starts moving over his cock faster and his thoughts derail as a weak whimper escapes his lips.

“Plus,” Keith continues, pausing his strokes for a second to press the tip of his thumb roughly into the slit of Shiro’s cock, causing him to leak pre-come. “You love the praise, don’t you?”

Shiro’s shoulders shudder and his hips roll up into Keith’s fist. “Yes,”

“Such a slut for it, you enjoy having me tell you how good you are, how pretty you look like this.” Keith’s voice is like a purr that buzzes in the back of Shiro’s mind. His cock is already dripping, he can feel it running down his length, chasing after Keith’s hand before it’s swiped back up to the head, latching onto Keith’s skin.

Shiro bites his bottom lip, keeps himself from saying anything else and tries to keep his noises to a minimum. His eyes squeeze closed, and all he can see is the darkness, no images fill the void and the only noise is the slick sounds of Keith’s hand on his cock. His arms tense, his muscles tighten as he tugs on the restraints a little. Not because he wants to escape, but because he wants to reach out because he wants to get his own hands on Keith’s body. Some part of his mind wants to return the favour, completely ignoring the fact that this is sick and twisted, that he’s a _slave_. All he wants is to please.

“Look at you, such a perfect boy Shiro.” Keith hums and just like that, his hand is coming away from Shiro’s cock. He whimpers pathetically, hips chasing the grip desperately, thrusting up into the air as much as he can manage while restrained like this. He looks down to Keith, letting out another unintentional whimper.

His cock is fully hard, dripping pre-come and twitching with every breath. His chest heaves already and he can’t stop squirming. He pulls at his cuffs, wanting to reach for himself and continue jerking himself off.

Keith takes a step back like he’s going to leave, but Shiro knows he isn’t. Shiro still whines uselessly. Keith lubes up his hand again, slicking up his fingers. His movements are slow, teasing as he stares up at Shiro like he doesn’t know why he looks so desperate. Once he’s satisfied with the coating of lube on his fingers, he closes that space between them again. He tilts his chin up and smirks up at Shiro.

“You get worked up so easily baby, and you just keep asking for more, and in return, you give me so much.” Keith hums as his hand comes to rest on Shiro’s ass. Shiro rocks back into the touch instantly. Keith’s thumb rubs against the muscle of his ass as his middle finger dips between his cheeks. He rubs Shiro’s rim, slow but firm, working the muscle even though he’s loose already, teasing him more.

“Sir…” Shiro mumbles, wishing he could move more, that he wasn’t so restricted as to not be able to press himself back on Keith’s finger better. Keith just hums and keeps circling slowly, his gaze flickering down to Shiro’s leaking cock before back up to his face.

It’s when Shiro turns his head, lifts his gaze to meet Keith’s own that Keith finally pushes his finger into Shiro’s body. The slide is easy, Shiro’s body is wet and warm and he’s only tight when Shiro purposely clenches down on him when his eyes roll back. He knows it only feels as good as it does because he’s drugged up, high on so many things that it feels like he’s on cloud nine. Shiro’s head rolls back a little, his hands tugging at his restraints once again as he tries to reach for himself. He always does, he always will.

Keith rests his other hand against Shiro’s thigh, stroking his fingers against his skin as he trails his eyes all over the expanse of Shiro’s bare body. Shiro’s cock twitches and he lets out a low whimper as Keith pushes his finger in deeper, curls it up against his prostate before he pulls back. And the next slide in is with two fingers, and Keith spreads them, Shiro’s breath hitching as he’s stretched open.

“What do you say?” Keith asks in a purr. Shiro whines again.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Good pet.”

Keith tilts his head down and watches his fingers moving in and out of Shiro’s body. The pace is even, slow, and as teasing as it could be. Shiro continues to make little noises, shifting back against the push and pull of Keith’s hand. And then Keith’s nails dig into Shiro’s thigh a little, and it’s all the warning Shiro gets before Keith speeds up his movements. Shiro’s back arches, he cries out weakly as Keith fucks him hard and fast on his fingers. It’s perfect, the kind of pleasure Shiro’s hazy brain and body needs and it’s gone just as fast as it came.

Keith’s fingers slip from Shiro’s body like he’s just pulled back too far, but he doesn’t ram them back inside his slick hole. Shiro whines, his body jolting forward from the stimulation it leaves in his bones. The muscles in his thighs quiver and Keith smirks. He gives Shiro’s ass a light slap, hard enough the sound bounces off the walls, but not hard enough to sting. He pulls away from Shiro’s body again and collects up the toy that’s been sitting on his desk the whole time, that hadn’t at all gone unnoticed by Shiro. Shiro’s shoulder tense and takes in a shaky breath as Keith slicks it up.

The vibrator is thick, it’s curved just right and Shiro knows exactly how it feels thrumming against his prostate. And he knows exactly how many speeds it has, how hard it’ll press into his prostate and how loud he’ll scream as it milks every last drop of come from his body until he’s coming dry.

He watches from the corner of his eye as Keith slicks up the toy, using copious amounts of lube. He likes how wet Shiro gets afterwards, loves being able to just about slide anything into his gaping, wet hole. Shiro can’t and won’t say he complains. Keith steps up to him again, still stroking the toy like it was actually someone’s cock. His wrist twists around the head and Shiro keens, wanting to feel those fingers around his dick again.

“Ready?” And Keith’s not asking it because he wants to actually confirm that, but Shiro nods anyway.

“Yes, sir. _Please_.” Shiro moans.

Keith presses the toy against Shiro’s rim. It’s so wet, it’s filthy how slick it is against him and how much he wants to feel it slide into his body, stretching him wider than Keith’s fingers had. And yet it still wouldn’t be too much for his body.

Keith turns it onto the first setting before he starts to push it into Shiro’s body. It has his hips thrusting forward a little, a gasp escaping him. He whines softly as Keith pushes it all the way in without hesitation. It presses firmly against Shiro’s prostate, and Keith holds it there for a second, giving it a few small twists before he pulls his hand back. Shiro clenches around the toy as the low, slow vibrations tingle up his spine, make his toes curl and his cock twitch against his stomach.

Keith moves so he’s more at Shiro’s front and finally, _finally_, wraps his fingers around Shiro’s cock. He gives a slow, firm stroke up the length and Shiro sighs contently at the needed contact.

“Thank you, thank you, sir.” And Shiro says it on instinct, hadn’t even meant to say anything. Keith smirks up at him, moving his hand slowly over Shiro’s cock, aiding in the ache in his body.

“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Keith hums, moving his other hand back around to Shiro’s ass, keeping from making contact and with Shiro’s eyes fluttering, staying mostly closed, he doubts the older male sees it.

“Yes, for you.” Shiro mumbles and Keith hums his approval and turns the vibrator up two settings. Shiro’s hips jolt as he lets out a startled sound, tugging again on his cuffs. His wrists are starting to ache, but that’s normal at this stage.

Keith speeds up the strokes on Shiro’s cock to match the new, faster vibrations of the toy inside him. Shiro chews into his own lip, biting and sucking on it, rolling it between his teeth as he tries to let the pleasure just flood over him, tries to fall into it wholly. It doesn’t last long though, before Keith’s turning the vibrator up, another three speeds and it’s working as fast as it can go against Shiro’s prostate. He whimpers, body spasming at the sudden speed, the pleasure that spikes in his body, making his cock spurt out a dribble of pre-come onto Keith’s hand. Which he promptly pulls back.

Shiro whines pathetically, lifting his head to look up at Keith, begging with his eyes for him to keep touching him. Keith only smirks and lifts his hand. He likes the pre-come from his hand, humming lowly at the bitter taste. He’s said enough times how much he loves the taste of Shiro, how he wishes he could keep his come all to himself.

Keith only grins and turns away from Shiro to grab the makeshift apparatus for collecting Shiro’s come. It’s like a cock pump, only it leads into a tube that clasps onto the little containers that Keith sells. He sets it up as Shiro squirms and whines, the build-up in his gut and in his cock making it hard for him to focus on anything than the numbing feeling of the pulses against his prostate. His eyes are watering by the time Keith’s working the pump over Shiro’s cock. It only covers half the length, so if Keith chooses, he can stroke him through it.

He leans into Shiro’s side again and smirks up at him, looking smug and pleased as Shiro pants and whimpers. He’s fidgeting, squirming and tugging, trying to push back more on the vibrator while also wanting desperately to grab hold of his cock.

“You getting close baby?” Keith asks knowingly when Shiro’s noises start to sound even higher, whining so much his throat burns. Shiro nods his head desperately, hips thrusting up into nothing as he tries to chase his orgasm. He’s right there on that edge, needing release.

Keith’s hand presses against Shiro’s thigh, and his fingers tease at moving down further as the younger male leans his body completely against Shiro’s side. “Then come for me, I want your pretty load, Shiro.”

And it’s enough, sending Shiro over the edge with a cry as his cock pulsates, twitching upward despite the pump on him. It sets his bones alight with pleasure and his eyes roll back as his mouth falls open. He takes in a breath of chloroform and it makes his head spin even more as he twitches, cock throbbing as he fills the pump. And he barely gets to catch his breath, feels like he hasn’t even stopped coming before Keith’s hand is moving.

Keith’s quick to wrap his fingers around the base of Shiro’s cock. His strokes are unrelenting, are forceful and fast, jerking Shiro off like he’s the one desperate. Shiro’s body withers, his hole clenches around the vibrator abusing his prostate and tears streak down his cheeks as he cries out. It hurts, to be kept up that high, to be kept on that edge and forced to fall again. Keith’s lips press to Shiro’s shoulder and he _groans_.

“C’mon Shiro, give it to me, give me that fucking load baby.”

Shiro sobs and his back arches again. Keith’s fingers grab the base of the vibrator and twist it, pressing it harder against Shiro’s prostate, pulling it back an inch or so before slamming it back inside his body but it’s Keith’s fist over his cock that milks more come from Shiro’s dripping cock. Shiro screams, muscles tensing as Keith strokes him through his second orgasm until he’s satisfied. He drops his hand away from Shiro’s cock and turns off the toy, but keeps it pressed inside him.

Shiro’s body relaxes, he sags forward a little, going completely lax as his chest heaves. Every muscle in his body shakes, making the restraints on his wrists clatter against the bench. It takes him a while to catch his breath properly, takes him a moment to collect himself enough to stifle his sobs and stop himself from crying. The tears have caught in his muzzle, soaking into it.

He slowly lifts his head and meets Keith’s gaze. He just offers Shiro a soft smile and strokes his clean hand through Shiro’s hair, petting him softly. Just like a dog, a _pet_.

“You did so good baby, look at the pretty mess you made.” Keith praises, showing off the content in the container that caught his loads. “That’s gonna be worth it.” He hums like he’s proud of it, like it’s his work. Shiro just shivers more, trying not to shift back against the toy still pressed into his prostate.

“We’ll get you a drink then we’ll go again, see if we can get another load like that from you.”

Shiro’s eyes slide shut on a whine but he nods his head. As much as it hurt, Keith’s praise really was what made all of this bearable.

**Author's Note:**

> [Check out my Tumblr](http://bloodthirstymerc.tumblr.com/about_merc) to request your own comm ;)


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